


Camp Dunder

by poeticeclipse



Category: The Office (US)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23292781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeticeclipse/pseuds/poeticeclipse
Summary: Michael's latest and greatest idea to get his employees to start acting like a team involves a good old fashioned 'summer camp'.  But when does pitting people against each other to earn rewards bring them closer together?Well... anything's possible.
Relationships: Jim Halpert/Dwight Schrute, Jim Halpert/Ryan Howard, Jim Halpert/Ryan Howard/Dwight Schrute, Pam Beesly/Jim Halpert, Ryan Howard/Dwight Schrute
Comments: 14
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

Jim's POV

Only Michael scott could come up with something as asinine as 'Camp Dunder.' 

...Yes 'Camp.' 

Woo... fanfare, confetti...

To say anyone was less than enthused would be an understatement.

"Um, Michael why do we need this again?" Toby's face is slightly more pinched and tired than usual as he rubs his brow.

"Because, Toby," he hisses. "In order for this office to run as a well oiled machine we need to be a cohesion team, thus, team building retreats are a necessity!"

"You mean cohesive?" I ask raising a hand.

"That's what I said."

"Right," Toby tries again tiredly. "But a week long camp. Really, Michael?"

"Look, the bus leaves at eight, if you're not here consider yourselves fired."

"Michael." Angela's head snaps up.

"That's not fair." Phillyis murmurs.

"Eight o clock, people." He claps his hands closing the office door.

"I had plans this weekend," Stanley grumbles.

"Well, sucks to be you all." Ryan shrugs.

"What makes you think you're getting out of it?" I ask.

"Because I'm temping? I hardly have a stake in how well this 'machine' runs in the future."

I shrug. "Well, it's your job in the now."

"So."

"Michael, does Ryan have to go too?" Dwight hollers through the closed door.

"Of course!"

"Thanks a lot, man!" He glares.

  
***

  
"So." I toss my bag in the back of the bus next to Pam's. "Excited for camp?" I ask, bouncing on my toes in mock excitement.

"Totally. I think my mom misses my macaroni art."

I snicker and follow her up the bus steps.

"Woah, where ya goin?" Michael asks putting a hand on my arm.

"To my seat?"

"Assigned seat, Jim."

Crap.

"Okay... and that is?"

"Here!" He pats the space beside him.

Man.

Ryan smirks into the notebook he's scribbling in.

Brat.

I sigh and take a seat looking around.

Dwight glares at me from his seat beside Stanley, Toby's rambling on about something to Oscar, I'm not sure what but based on his face I can tell Oscar wishes he didn't either, Meridith is beside Ryan, Creed with Pam, she mouths a 'help' in my direction I smile in sympathy and shrug as Michael grabs my arm jabbering a mile a minute. Something tells me this is going to be a long hour and a half...

***

The bus rumbles down a dirt path giving a lurch as it grinds to a halt, dust billowing in the air. I stand stretching, bus seats were not made to accommodate tall people I groan.

Someone slams against my back on the way down the steps causing me to stumble.

"Stop pushing, Kevin!" Ryan snaps. "You'd think you want to be here."

"Are you kidding. Smores, weenie roasts, chili." He wags his brows. "This week's gonna be great."

"I don't think it's that kind of camp," Pam says, and his face falls.

"Oh it's that kind of camp, and more!" Michael promises excitedly.

"Yes!" He hisses fist pumping.

Dwight takes a deep breath scanning the trees. "I love camping. Man and nature, how it should be."

"I hated camp," Ryan mumbles. "Had my mom pick me up the second day." He crosses his arms scowling.

I roll my eyes. Figures.

"Alrighty," Michael exclaims pacing in front of us. "Once I call out your assigned cabin go ahead and grab your things and start unpacking."

There's a collective groan as he starts calling off.

"Kevin, Creed, Stanley, cabin A." Kevin offers Creed a high five and Stanley let's out a long suffering sigh before shuffling off.

"I think it's obvious to be all 'politically correct'" he air quotes. "And avoid claims of sexual harassment, the ladies will share cabin B."

Angela rolls her eyes grabbing her bag. "This is so unethical," she grumbles.

"I, I think it might be fun," Phyllis offers trying for a cheerful smile.

"Yes, I suppose you would." She sniffs walking past.

Shouldering her bag Pam shoots me a look on the way by. I feel bad for her having to deal with Angela all week.

"Dwight, Jim, Ryan, cabin C."

...and now I feel bad for me.

We slowly make our way to the back of the bus gathering our bags.

Dwight has like, a full tactical backpack, duffel, and large first aid kit.

"That's all you packed?" He asks incredulously, staring at Ryan's lone duffel.

"Maybe he's planning to call his mom to come get him again." I smirk lifting my bag out.

He glares hard at me but I don't care. I don't usually make a fuss over Michael's inane ideas, but a week in the woods with these two? Mark my words someone's gonna die out here.

We lug our bags to cabin C. Staring up at the faded roof and ripped screen door.

"Man," Ryan sighs.

Though we don't say anything we echo those sentiments as we trudge up the front steps.

  
***

  
The cabin is dank and musty when we step in. Squinting in the dim light we take in the sparse room we'll be calling home for the next week. It's pretty depressing. Dwight wastes no time pulling shades and opening windows. Dust motes waft in the sunlight making me sneeze. Ryan slowly walks to one of the beds setting his bag down. His eyes roam the room looking completely dejected. Not that I can blame him. I move to the bed on the opposite wall with my name taped to the footboard, Dwight's next to Ryan so at least that's something.

He looks to Ryan. "Bunk buddies." He says all serious and I snort.

Ryan stares at him for a long minute.

"Alright," he says slowly and Dwight nods rifling through his bag.

"Stick with me I can teach you everything about camping."

His brows raise a bit. "I'm really not here to learn, man," he says shaking his head slightly and letting his hands fall.

"Still," he gives him a meaningful look. "You know where to find me."

His eyes flick to me as if to ask 'is he serious?'

  
I just smile.

  
'Camp Dunder' is officially underway.


	2. Chapter 2

After stowing our things away we're yanked sharply from the silence as a blaring commotion wails from outside.   
We each stand frozen by our beds for half a second before simultaneously moving for the door.

Michael's dressed in khaki, and badly playing a bugle while marching in place.

"Wow," I say not really believing my eyes. He's going whole hog on this camp thing. It's like being twelve all over again.

"The scarf's a nice touch," Ryan mumbles dryly.

I can't tell if he's joking or not.

Dwight looks downright elated.   
It's pretty disgusting. Michael could come by dressed as a Tsar of Russia and Dwight would still probably cheer him on.

"Let me guess, assistant camp counselor in your hey day?"

He sneers. "Camp counselors are essential to the infrastructure of camp and camp life, Jim."

... "Sure."

"If everyone would follow me, I'll explain how this camp works."

Michael leads the way to a large clearing. Shielding our eyes from the sun we all stand gobsmacked.

Huge structures set up like obstacle courses cover the area.

"Yes!" Dwight cheers with an intensity that's downright disturbing.

"Oh my-  
Toby stands agape. "How much did this cost, Michael?"

"Never you mind, Tobias." He flaps a hand airily.

"Michael."

"I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy, alright."

"Oh my God," he mutters running a hand down his face.

Angela scowls. "What is it?"

"Okay, this is how it goes: you're already divided into teams, hence, your roommates." He gestures. "You can not do anything without your team with you; you live together, eat together, play together.

Everyone starts to look around uncomfortably.

"What about, um... going to the bathroom?" Kevin snickers like it's the funniest thing he's ever thought.

Michael holds a hand up. "Granted it is one shower per cabin there is to be no sharing."

"No sharing." Toby reiterates.

Out of the three of us I already know it's gonna be me and Ryan fighting for the shower.

"Is all this neccessary." Stanley yawns.

"Well, you tell me, Stanley? Is leaving work early, days off, longer lunches something you'd find 'neccessary'?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Rewards, Jimbo. You work as a team you win rewards."

"Now it's interesting!" Creed hoots.

"So, what do we have to do?" Ryan questions skeptically.

"Nothing tonight. We'll have dinner, tour the facilities and rest up for tomorrow. You're dismissed." He claps.

Dinner that night is hotdogs and chilli.   
We each load a tray and scour the room for  
our lone reserved table. Ryan and I follow Dwight single file towards the back. It's like being back in middle school only, I'm not sure which table is the 'cool' kids.

Our table is beside a window and is only large enough for three chairs. Dwight sits across from me with Ryan on my left.  
We pick at our food quietly for a few minutes.

"So," Dwight starts. "What kind of camps did either of you attend? I of course participated in wilderness survival camps."

"Is that even a thing."

"Yes."

"Alright well, I just 'participated' in your regular school like summer camps, arts and craft junk."

He nods satisfied. "Ryan?"

"Baseball." He murmurs picking cheese off his chilli dog.

"Excellent, you at least have some athletic ability then."

"You play little league?" I ask.

"Played up to college."

"Cool, I played to high school. What position?"

"Short stop."

I whistle. "Must of been pretty good."

He shrugs.

"We played stick ball on the farm." Dwight informs.

Before either of us can say anything we're interrupted by Creed jeering loudly.

"At a boy."

Everyone turns in their seat to watch Kevin wolf down hotdogs like it's a contest.

"Slow down, boy." Stanley says in disgust.

"He's gonna set a record." Creed laughs.

The morbid spell of fascination is quickly broken when he starts to gag.

"Ugh, Kevin!" Michael shouts.

"Get to a trash can!" Someone else hollers.

But it's too late and we're all rewarded with a lovely after dinner show...

No one's in the mood to eat after that so we return to the cabin, where Dwight decides to turn in early.

"We'll need our stamina in the morning," he warns tucking into bed and seeming to fall asleep instantly.

I sigh staring at the ceiling, wiggling my toes. It's too early for me to sleep.   
I count the beams of the ceiling a few times before eventually flopping over to stare at Ryan writing in his notebook.

"Whatcha writing?" I ask out of sheer boredom.

"Outlining a blog post," he mumbles not bothering to look up.

I hum lazily watching him scribble. "Sharing your exciting week of office camp with the world?"

"Maybe."

"Don't forget to include Kevin's hot dog in reverse feast."

"Gross, don't remind me," he grimaces.

"Least he layed off the chilli."

"Jim?" He looks at me. "Could you stop talking?"

I roll my eyes and turn back over tugging the covers up. I listen to the sound of pencil scratching against paper for what feels like hours before falling asleep.

***

I wake in the night to: a flashlight beam, a horrendous choked snorting sound, and Ryan muttering curses.

"What's going on?" I sit up quickly, straining to get my bearings.

"He sleeps like the dead, man," Ryan exclaims frustrated.

I blink and finally realize the awful sound is Dwight snoring... if you could even call it that.

"Wow."

"Yeah. I've been listening to it for over an hour."

"And you're waving a flashlight around... why?"

"I was gonna move my bed but the stupid thing's bolted to the floor." He runs a hand through his hair in irritation.

"That sucks."

He shoots me a look that says so much  
and I fight hard not to laugh.

He snatches his pillow up.

"Now what?" I ask laying back and yawning.

"Sleep on the floor I guess," he gripes stomping over to my side of the room and snapping the light off.

***

I remember not to step on him the next morning—mostly.

"Ow! Dang it, Halpert. Watch where you put those mammoth feet."

"Sorry," I say, blandly. "Why are you right up on the bed anyway?"

"Don't let it go to your head, but I'd rather hear you breathe than," he looks across the room, eyes narrowing at Dwight. "Whatever the heck that is."

"Flattered."

He stands letting the blankets fall to the floor, cracking his back. He straightens suddenly. "I call shower!" He shoves me back onto the bed, screen door slamming behind him.

I rush out on the porch, leaning over the railing. "Five minutes, Howard. I'll drag that scrawny butt out if I have to."

He has the gall to shake his hips at me.

I swear.

"How's it going?" Pam laughs, pausing at the steps with a towel flung over her shoulder.

"Oh time of my life, I don't think I'll ever want to leave."

She grins rolling her eyes.

"How's it going for you? Fighting for the shower?"

"Nah, Angela gets up at an ungodly hour to get ready apparently." Her voice drops to a whisper. "She's wearing pantyhose, for goodness sake!"

I laugh. That sounds about right.

"See, ya around." She waves continuing on her way.

"See, ya."

I lean against the rail waiting for Ryan who, takes a good fifteen minutes. He smiles very sweetly at me on his way up the steps.

You can not punch your coworker you can not punch your coworker. 

I hurry for the showers noting the five minute warning of the bugle.

And this is only the first challenge of the day.


	3. Chapter 3

After breakfast, we walk down to the field.

Michael's jumping up and down in glee. "C'mon, c'mon." He gestures, standing  
in front of a group of large crates. They sit at the front of several roped off lanes, in the middle a large pole with a bag hanging from it, and at the very end a table of some sort. 

"Someone's excited." I say.

Angela rolls her eyes. "This whole thing is ridiculous." She sniffs.

Toby sits on the platform with the tables, chin in hand looking completely dejected.  
"Well, Michael. You want to explain the whole thing to them?"

"Love to." He flaps a dismissive hand at him.  
"Okay teams line up!"

We all shuffle to different lanes, standing around, casting furtive glances at each other.

"Right, so." He claps his hands. "One person from each team will take the crates. Your job is to move it down field where another team member will use it to help them climb the pole and retrieve the bag of puzzle pieces. Finally the last player will solve the puzzle. Thirty seconds to decide who takes what. Go!"

"Wait. What are we playing for?" Stanley wants to know.

"Winners get to leave work early for a month."

Everyone dissolves into movement and arguments right away.

"Three...two...one!"

We all scramble to our spots.

"You're about to go down, Jim." Kevin grins at me.

I snort.

"On your mark. Get set... Go!" Michael screams, blowing a whistle. Which seems a little redundant but whatever.

I grip the crate on either side and... 

Nothing.

This thing is heavy. I step back. Surely we're not actually expected to move a solid weight. I give the top a knock and hear the echo. Throwing my shoulder and all my weight into it it tips enough that the weight in the bottom shifts and the whole thing can be flipped. It hits the ground with a bang and I pant brushing my hair back. This has to be in the top most ridiculous things I've done for Michael Scott.

"C'mon, Jim!" Dwight hollers.

I roll my eyes cursing under my breath, gearing up for the next push.

I continue slamming into it moving it slowly down the field. It sends a little cloud of dust up everytime it strikes the ground. Rough wood bites into my shoulder. The day started off cool but already I've broken a sweat. I stop to wipe my brow and catch my breath, glancing down the field towards Ryan. He's been leaning almost casually against the post all the while. I swear if he blows this.

Grunting, I give the box a final flip landing it by his feet in a cloud of dust. He surprises me by quickly and smoothly scrambling up the crate. Grasping the pole he shimmies quickly to the top untying the bag.  
He's like a monkey up there I think bemused.  
He drops the bag taking his time to scoot halfway down the beam.

"Jump!"

"Yeah right, Halpert. I could break my leg!" He calls.

Drama queen.

Once he's halfway down he jumps. Landing easily on his feet. 

"Let's go."

We rush to the marker, chucking the bag to Dwight.

I rub my shoulder breathing hard. Glancing back I see Creed's already down for his team and they're quickly catching up.  
Poor Phyllis is still throwing herself at the crate trying to get it to budge.

"Use your back," Meridith shouts.

"It's fine, it's fine. You're doing fine." Pam encourages.

I turn back to watch Dwight and now Stanley work the puzzle.

"Let's go," kevin chants. But Stanley's moving faster than I've ever seen him move before, the pieces quickly coming together.

"C'mon, Dwight. Pick it up, man."

"Theres a system, Jim."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Ryan asks looking between his and Stanley's puzzle.

"Yes, I do, ok. It's a mechanical puzzle  
the oldest known mechanical puzzle comes from Greece and appeared in the 3rd century BC. The game consist-

"Yes!" Creed cheers as another piece slides into place.

"Just focus!" we snap getting frenzied.

He huffs, turning.

"You know, if you actually think you could do any- 

"Done!" Kevin screams.

Michael runs over to check. 

Examing from all sides dramatically.

"...Winners!" He shouts.

Dwight's head whips around in shock. "Preposterous!"

Creed hoots doing some form of, I can only guess, cartwheel.

"Man!" Ryan huffs in disgust, pulling at his hair.

And just like that our shot of leaving early vanishes. 

"Dwight!" Ryan and I holler at the same time.

"What?" He says defensively, pushing at his glasses.  
"Why'd we want to leave early anyway, don't you have any pride in a job well done?"

Ryan's voice raises. "I gopher Michael's dry cleaning!" He gestures angrily.

I'd almost laugh, except I'm really annoyed too.

***

We don't speak for the rest of the day.

Dwight offers Ryan his muffin as a peace offering at dinner that night. He seems to really want to be friends with him.

I sigh.  
"Look, we're not going to get anywhere if we don't talk and work together. At least while we're out here, at the office we can go back to doing our level best to avoid each other."

"Agreed," says Dwight.

We look at Ryan. "Well?"

He picks at the muffin before eventually rolling his eyes and nodding. "Fine."

"Let's not talk here though," Dwight says looking around suspiciously.

Whatever.

We decide to take a walk after dinner.

"Losers!" Creed cackles as we pass his table.

Who knew he was so competitive?

Dwight scowls as we exit the dining hall.  
"It's like wilderness camp all over again."

"It's like baseball camp," Ryan mutters, hopping off the step and kicking a rock.

"Not for me. Everybody loved me."

"Yeah right," Ryan says. "You probably annoyed everyone so bad they ran your underwear up a flag pole."

I gasp, clutching my heart. "It's like you know me."

The corner of his lips twitch into a rueful little smirk and he rolls his eyes.

We turn, following the trail through a stand of trees and down to the lake.  
A cool breeze rolls over sending ripples along the water.

I rub my hands together. The temperature's dropped to at least thirty or forty degrees.

We forego the dock to sit on some fallen logs someone's set up as makeshift benches.

"Look," Dwight starts, clearing his throat.  
"I realize I wasn't honed in. Wasn't as laser focused as I usually am." He sniffs.

"No kidding," Ryan grumbles.

"Still," he interrupts, casting an irritated glance his way. "I still think we had good strategy and I should be in charge of puzzles and logic when it comes to it."

"Why," I ask.

"Because it's more my strong suit. Ryan's quick and agile, you're, I dont know, tall and not entirely weak."

"Ooh, careful that was almost a compliment."

"My point is, we each have a strength. It makes sense to play to them."

And as much as I hate to admit it, he's right.

"Alright, we know where we're working. Now, are we all agreed to play to win?"

"Yeah," Ryan says.

"Yes, Dwight agrees. "I may not care as much about the rewards, but I won't let you down." He nods firmly.

We sit for a minute in silence.  
Above a bird screeches flying overhead.

"I never would have believed Stanley to be so adept at puzzles," Dwight says suddenly. He touches his chin thinking. "Maybe there's meaning in this camp. Maybe we judge people too quickly never knowing their innermost selves and-

Ryan flicks a piece of bark at him.

It pings lightly off the side of his glasses.

And to my surprise instead of getting huffy he laughs.

"Excuse me for trying to find meaning."

Ryan grins. "The only meaning to be found here is that Creed is a lot closer to Michael's level of insanity than I first realized." 

"And you sit behind him," I remind.

His eyes go distant and he shivers. "I know."

A bugle sounds in the distance.  
We push off the fallen log to trudge our way back to camp, and whatever awaits us tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading:)  
> Comments and kudos appreciated and be sure to check out my other works;)


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